Red Tide
by Skye901
Summary: Lucius is tipsy with madness and wandering around the Far East.
1. Default Chapter

Red Tide

By: Willawillakola
    
    Disclaimer: All the standard ones apply
    
    Warning: nasty and insane
    
    Rating: R or more likely NC-17
    
    Feedback? Anything...

i.

The night before Lucius was taken to the Far East he stood on the porch, watching the half moon, golden knee breeches pulled down, twitching and yanking his sex. The colour of the bruise on it was destined to become glistening violet upon daybreak.  The noises came stumping over his frozen lashes. He winced. He stepped inside, packed his fuzzy blue slippers and gutting knife inside an old shawl and waited on his bed.

ii. 

He was given his own harem. It was plagued with prostitutes who lay on their backs all year waiting to become pregnant.  Once the baby was born, they would put a pillow on the baby's head and sat on it until the creature was stifled. On the fist day Lucius tore his valance into rags and tied his ankles to the bedposts. The knife was subtle and luminescent when it descended upon his skin. Crimson spider webs were coiling over his thighs and belly. He entered a large darkness before he could castrate himself. 

iii.

The scars remained like wide mouths on his prepubescent flesh. Lucius was hungry. He gave himself a peck on the lips and slipped into scarlet silk robes. Outside the heat was rising and rats and roaches crawled against flat surfaces. Lucius smiled as he dragged a kitten's intestines out with his teeth. He floated in the sun drawing dark circles under his eyes and trying to wipe up his smile of blood.

iv. 

The musicians surrounded Lucius. He surrendered. He looked demure. He was consumed in a flash of lust, heat, and glitter. They plucked his nipples like dark flowers. He was a hollow skull with twin moons for eyes. He had a spark of heaven clashing with inferno on his lips. He was all glass when they pinned him to the sky. They could see stars floating in a pool of blood in his tummy. 


	2. Interlude

i.

My name is Lucius Malfoy. Once the word was mine. It was stolen. I am earning it back. I once indulged myself in seclusion. It is time to move out of the shadows. My bones are steel like the day I was born. Laughter rolls like hot lava out of my chest. I am half sick darkness, dripping down the edge of the moon, interwoven in my own flesh. But I am light itself. I am the dominant force of my own existence. You think I am not a god? Touch me and I'll burn you. 

ii.

I doze, suspended in mid air, body drenched in sweat. My mouth tastes like chocolate, I have tasted nothing but chocolate since I came here. My stomach is boated. I almost don't see him peeking through my window. He is inside all of a sudden, like a flash of lightning. He stretches over me like a thin sheet of dark clouds, the silhouette of a demon. Mmm…what a warm blanket. I am soft and submissive in this heat. A tap of his wand and my legs grow swollen and clumsy, breasts jingle like black pompoms on my chest.

Let's make a baby, he whispers in my ear.

He squirms like a toddler in my lap. I close my eyes and learn the curves of his body with my fingers. To use it against him. 

iii.

I am bathing knee-deep in snowflakes inside a giant swimming pool. The ceiling was painted like the sky, which were melted scrapes, against the pool. I painted with red and grey over it. All kinds of pictures. Rats and roaches. Jade peonies and scarlet  ribbons. The pool is a polished delirium. I lift up my chains here. I lap at the skin of my arms and press my lips together. I am making love to myself. In front of me floating like a dead fish on water is a razor. I long to kiss the edges of the blade. I grab it by its tail and edge it towards my neck. It seems to like it there. I smile. It's crawling past my ear and up my skull in a flash. In my lap lays a handful of crumpled sunrays.

iv. 

I am 4 in this photograph. I have my collection of cardboard stars lined up in front of me. My hands are dirtied with glitter ink. I am chubby and perfect, like the baby my belly can't give. I refuse to look in a mirror. My eyebrows are fused and rusted over, my cheeks hollow, my irises faded. Little Lucius and me are twisted reflections of each other in a shattered mirror. Wings of razor blades shoot out of my back.

v.

Music is drummed into my skull. It shimmers and ripples off my skin. I am trapped inside a stretchy cocoon of nightmares. I barely squeeze through the cracks. The crowd makes way for me. My chest is already tingling. When the notes finally come out, they are shrill and hop in front of my eyes like restless rabbits, a deep shade of fuchsia. I burst into song.


	3. Venus’s flower basket

Red Tide-Part 3

By: Willawillakola

I

Sometimes I choke on my own tears. Just when I think I have drowned in the paradise of sadness, joy bubbles near the surface. But how can bubbles form on stale waters?

II 

I am running so fast my lungs burn with the of lack air, tears are clouding my vision. I need to run faster, please, just a step up into the space. I am wingless. You have seen how broken I am. You know how ugly. I am cold. Can hug my skull up there where all my hair has fallen out? Please, Please, Please…

III

Outside the noises are so ugly. People hurt me so much with their mindless shouts and burps. They stay inside my head for hours till I gag in front of the toilet so many times I cough up blood. But nothing spills out of me. From my feet up to my chest is full of vomit and I can't do anything to throw up.

IV

I am sitting naked and aroused in the middle of my bed-sheets smudged with the acute need to love. I do this every night because I can't sleep. I fill myself with my imaginary lover. He is faceless; he never talks to me. He is all arms and kisses. I knock on his chest just to see if there is a soul inside. He turns over and kisses me for real this time, drinking the crushed rose petals from my lips.

V

When I was little I used to have rows and rows of violins and violas hung from a string in the attic. I wish I knew how many of them I smashed. I kept smashing more and more each day. Broken wood would fly off like shards or petals of a tulip disintegrating. The jagged pieces could always carve poetry on the walls.

VI

Violet, magenta, orange and gold waves ride on top of each other. Clashing together they form a luminescent grey, that's why I almost don't see it. Shiny as crystal lace frost sewn together by snowflakes. I gently finger the skeleton of a glass sponge. It lays nestled against my chest like a mutated goddess. It has died of asphyxiation in the red tide. The sea is a long cradle of rainbow waves luminescent and twisted, rocking thousands of dead algae. The stench of rotting flesh is making me gag again. I should get out before the toxin makes its way through my skin. I have saved Venus's flower basket.


End file.
